


Comfort in the Siege

by WolffyLuna



Category: Horus Heresy - Various Authors, Warhammer 40.000, Warhammer 40k (Novels) - Various Authors
Genre: Biting, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 00:47:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2753378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolffyLuna/pseuds/WolffyLuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorn and Sanguinius distract themselves from the Siege of Terra.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort in the Siege

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [marbleunderthefridge](marbleunderthefridge.tumblr.com) for beta-ing.

_He’s not taken anymore._

Rogal Dorn pushed down the thought as hard as he could. Sanguinius wasn’t in a relationship with Horus anymore, but that was because the Warmaster had committed the basest betrayal possible. _This wasn’t the time to be thinking this._ Sanguinius wasn’t a romantic prospect. He was probably still grieving the relationship, and the loss of his closest confidante. (Though Dorn did not know the details, rumour had spread that Horus had used secrets Sanguinius had told only him as a weapon. But the idea of Sanguinius keeping secrets was laughable.) It would be inappropriate to try and initiate a relationship. They were about to defend Terra, now was not the time for matters of the heart--.

“Dorn?”

Sanguinius’ words tore his attention back to the strategy meeting. “Hmm?”

“You were distracted.”

Dorn made the mistake of making eye contact with Sanguinius before trying to reply, and immediately got sidetracked again. His brother’s red eyes should be threatening, but they looked warm and open. Maybe it had to do with his skin tone; that rich, almost gold colour--

Dorn tore his eyes off Sanguinius’ face, and stared at his neck, trying to make it look like he was still making eye contact. It worked for a millisecond, before he discovered he was attracted to Sanguinius’ adam’s apple. (Just the right size, and it bobbed so prettily when he swallowed--.)

He averted his eyes and stared at the diagram of the Sol system behind Sanguinius, hoping he didn’t find he had a sudden lust for the planet Jupiter. (He didn’t, thankfully.) “Sorry, just... thinking.” Which was true, at least.

Sanguinius nodded, looking concerned.

He didn’t try and explain further, just stared at the elliptical orbits of the planets, aiming to keep his attention on the meeting.

When the meeting was was finally over, he did his best to ignore Jaghatai’s knowing smile.

***

The Traitor’s warriors crashed against the walls of the Palace like a tide; inexorable, unstoppable, and constantly wearing the defenses down. Auto missile and gun emplacements cut swathes through them, but ever more surged forward to fill their places, charging at the walls.

Sigismund jogged up to Dorn, at least three squads behind him. “Sir! There’s been a breach a kilometre east of Anapurna Gate.”

_So they hit_ next _to the appealing target. Perturabo’s work for sure..._ “Lead the way.”

Sigismund nodded and ran forward.

Dorn stayed to his right, leading the men with his disowned son.

The breach in the wall was small, only a little bit over a metre and half in diameter, but Iron Warriors in burnished grey plate still managed to wrangle their way through, into the small courtyard. From the drifting smell of ozone and the silent guns, a well placed haywire grenade had led their advance.

Dorn dropped down from the wall into the midst of the of the Iron Warriors, his Fists following suit.

His powerfist ruined the skull of the sergeant as he punched through the faceplate, his bolter reducing one of the devastators’ chests to a wet pulp.

His sons made short work of the others a heartbeat later. The breach was contained.

Then a shell impact knocked him off his feet.

He spun around in a instant, bringing his bolter back up to his line of sight.

It hadn’t been a shell.

Behind the rubble stood a crimson red daemon, clad in brassy armour, its whip still covered in dust from the wall it demolished.

Dorn snarled and charged at it. “Fire at will!”

The Fists shot off disciplined volleys, but each wound on the creature closed as soon as the shells passed through it.

Dorn brought his fist back, ready to punch through the creature’s hip.

It knocked his blow aside with a mere flick from its whip. Its voice filled his head, rang in his ears. **“ARE YOU TRULY THE BEST YOUR PETTY RULER HAS GOT?”**

Dorn pushed himself up from the ground. “We are the Emperor’s praetorians!”

**“YOU ARE WEAKLINGS.”**

The tip of the whip lay on the ground. Dorn ran up and grabbed it, yanking it back as hard as he could.

The daemon flicked the whip back towards it, throwing Dorn into the air.

He spun and landed on its shoulders, and punched its unprotected skull.

The creature leaped into the air with a flap of its wings.

Dorn lost his balance and fell on the ground again.

A streak of white and gold collided with daemon, knocking it out of the air. Sanguinius’ sword struck a huge gash through its chest.

As it closed, Dorn fired at it, the bolts penetrating the still healing flesh.

Sanguinius glanced over and grinned at him, before cutting through the daemon again.

Dorn fired again, and they continued alternating like that, slowly going through the struggling abomination’s rib cage and destroying its heart. The foul creature dissolved into a sulfurous, greasy sludge.

Sanguinius walked over to Dorn, grinning. “That was clever thinking, brother.”

Dorn was thankful that the combat hormones running through his system prevented him from becoming... distracted, again. “I’m just glad you came. We needed the reinforcements.” He emphasised the word slightly. It would be disastrous for morale if the men realised that the primarch could need help, but his brother deserved to know his gratitude.

Sanguinius dipped his head. “It was no issue.” He looked over his shoulder at the fizzing puddle. “There’s been far too many of those.”

“Hmm?”

“That particular -- type -- of daemon, I believe that is the best word. I fought another one of those earlier today.”

Dorn filed that piece of information. That creature was not unique, but Sanguinius had fought another. Defeated it even. Sanguinius had always been the brother best at close combat, greater than Angron some would argue. The fact he had defeated another monstrosity like that one was not surprising. Still, Dorn could not help but feel -- impressed. Filled with admiration.

The combat hormones seemed to be dissipating; that could be the source of his emotions.

Blood Angels jogged through the hole in the wall, removing his attention from his train of thought.

“Brother, would you and your marines be willing to defend this breach while we repair the wall? Unless you are needed somewhere else.”

Sanguinius bowed, fist on chest and wings fanned out. Dorn could see the fangs in his smile. “Certainly.”

***

By the time the wall had been repaired, the sun had mostly set, and the sky was filled with an orange twilight of dust.

Dorn glanced at his chron. End of his shift.

The Emperor, beloved by all, had decided that with a protracted siege, it would not be possible for primarchs to stay awake for the whole thing. He implemented a system of overlapping shifts, so there was always at least one primarch on the field, but still let them rest. It was odd in some ways, though... the schedules occasionally lined up, two primarchs coming off shift at the same time. It was probably accidental, but it was still possible that his father had orchestrated it for some reason.

Sanguinius landed next to his feet, interrupting his train of thought.

“End of your shift, too?” Dorn asked.

Sanguinius nodded, his wing brushing against Dorn’s powerpack. They walked together, back towards the barracks. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask. I’ve been putting it off, and I probably shouldn’t have.” Sanguinius looked up at him with those sparkling eyes that kept distracting him.

“What?”

“I was wondering if you would like to make love. Take our minds off the Siege, at least for a little.”

Dorn didn’t know how to respond. While he wanted Sanguinius to be _in_ love with him, he’d definitely thought about touching him, feeling those wings, caressing him. And he’d said ‘make love,’ hadn’t he? While he didn’t believe in having your cake and eating it too, this was too good to pass up--.

Sanguinius noticed his pause. “I wouldn’t be offended if you said no.” He smiled, showing fangs. “But I wouldn’t be offended if you said yes, either.”

Dorn’s brain finally managed to sync up with his vocal chords. “Yes.” It came out more strained than he expected, but he didn’t have time to be embarrassed before Sanguinius kissed him on the cheek.

Sanguinius slid his arm through Dorn’s, and they walked even closer together.

Nervousness curled in Dorn’s stomach, mixed with heated arousal. He shouldn’t be able to feel fear, or anxiety, or whatever this was, but with The Angel so close, so close as to be able to touch him-- he defied anyone not to worry about screwing it up.

They stepped over the threshold of the barracks, and Sanguinius led him to a spartan room with a few unrolled bed mats and armour stands. He locked the door behind them.

Sanguinius pulled away and went behind Dorn to strip off his backplate and power pack. Dorn did his best not to purr as Sanguinius’ hands went across his back and arms to take off his pauldrons, rerebraces and vambraces.

“Do you need any help yourself?”

Sanguinius nodded as he placed Dorn’s armour on an armour stand. “I just wanted to get you ready first.” He walked back over and kneeled down in front of Dorn, and started taking off his leg armour.

Dorn tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. He didn’t trust himself not to come undone just seeing Sanguinius in front of him like that, even in armour. He sweated and blushed down to his chest, and his cock hardened in anticipation.

He felt, rather than saw, Sanguinius stand up to put his armour on the stand.

He tore his eyes back down to eye level just as Sanguinius stepped back to him and turned around. He tried concentrating on taking off Sanguinius’ armour, instead of the tickle of feathers against his bare thighs, or each newly revealed piece of Sanguinius’ form. He couldn’t. Every part of his brother was gorgeous, even the bits that had been twisted to support his mighty wings.

He placed the armour on a separate stand, his cock bobbing against his stomach. He turned around, and the words tumbled out of his mouth before he registered them. “You’re beautiful.” Which was true. Now he could see him whole, he was even more perfect, from bright eyes to half-hard cock to well muscled calves. He didn’t think it would be more possible to be taken in than that time during the meeting. But now, with Sanguinius naked right in front of him, no planetary charts to distract him, and knowing what was about to happen, he was surprised he could still breathe, let alone form words.

Sanguinius walked over to him, smiling. “I was just about to say that, too.”

“You’re more beautiful than me.”

Sanguinius pressed his chest against Dorn’s and cupped his chin. “I’d say a mountain had equal beauty to a songbird, if not more.” He pressed his lips to Dorn’s and kissed him.

Dorn did his best to follow along, his lips parting for Sanguinius’ tongue. He let his brother take the lead, with his greater experience. (He dropped that line of thought. No need to let Horus ruin this too.) He tried to copy what Sanguinius did. He was clumsy and apprehensive, but Sanguinius still smiled against him.

Sanguinius started to lead him back, and Dorn let himself be led up against a wall. His brother broke the kiss, and they both stood there for a second, panting and drinking each other in, before Sanguinius started again. He kissed his cheek, his jaw, and kissed down Dorn’s neck until he reached where Dorn’s neck and shoulder met.

Dorn groaned involuntarily.

Sanguinius brought his head up again. “I forgot to ask: what do you like?” His voice was breathy, coming out in little puffs of air, no less attention-grabbing than when he yelled across a battlefield.

Dorn had some idea, from when he had touched himself and from fantasy, but it was hazy and indistinct. Even then, he couldn’t just say what he liked, it was dirty and-- “I don’t really know.”

Sanguinius smiled indulgently. “Just tell me what you like as I go.” He kissed and licked at the other side of Dorn’s neck.

Dorn reached around to hold Sanguinius’ lower back. “You can be rougher.”

Sanguinius started sucking at his neck, and gently drawing his fangs along Dorn’s skin.

Dorn closed his eyes. His cock was this close to being on the wrong side of aching. “That’s good. Just--” his breath caught ‘-- a little bit more.”

Sanguinius nibbled and bit.

Dorn stroked up and down Sanguinius’ back, trying to encourage him. He could barely form sentences with his head, let alone say them, so he tried to get his point across with his hands.

Sanguinius seemed to get the message. He bit down on Dorn’s trapezius, teeth sinking in and drawing blood.

Dorn opened his eyes and made a choked sound. He’d thought about it, but it was so much better in real life. It hurt, by the warp it _hurt;_ but it felt so good, like all the nerves in all his erogenous zones had been moved into his neck and all fired at once. He was surprised he hadn’t come right then and there. His cock was now definitely painful and begging for attention, but he couldn’t pay it any mind with all the sensation in his neck.

Sanguinius took his mouth off. “I’m sor--”

Dorn stopped his apology with a kiss to his forehead. “That was the best thing I ever felt.”

Sanguinius smiled with bloody fangs, and went back to work. He sucked and licked, drew fangs along the bite to keep it open, making new cuts and scrapes along the way.

Dorn’s blood mixed with Sanguinius’ saliva felt hot and cold against his skin, the perfect counterpoint to the delicious pain in his neck. He felt his brother’s smothered moans vibrate against his trapezius. He took his hands off Sanguinius’ back, one going to his brother’s hard cock, trying to return the favour as best as he could. His other hand went to the back of Sanguinius’ head, stroking his hair and holding it in place.

Sanguinius’ tongue lapped up Dorn’s neck, before he went back to nibbling along the edges of the bite. He balanced with one hand on Dorn’s shoulder. He snaked the other one up Dorn’s thigh, onto Dorn’s cock, and it felt so good as he started to stroke.

“I’m close,” he panted.

Sanguinius made a muffled affirmative noise.

Dorn was definitely close. His cock was now managing to compete for attention with his neck, even with Sanguinius drawing his canines up and down it. Dorn tried to hold off his orgasm, paying attention to what touches made Sanguinius moan and buck his hips. (He seemed to like when Dorn drew his thumb along his corona. Dorn made sure to do it on every upstroke.)

Dorn could feel the mounting fire in the pit of his stomach, and tried to savour each moment. He should have asked for this earlier, why did he even wait--? After the siege, he was definitely going to ask again.

Every one of his muscles tensed as he spilled over Sanguinius’ hand. He was glad he was against a wall, otherwise he would have collapsed and fallen down.

Sanguinius came a second later, shuddering and moaning against his neck. He started lapping his tongue against the wound, no longer drawing it open.

It healed quickly, in less than a second. Dorn wished that Sanguinius would have kept going for longer, but he knew that all good things must come to an end. He let go of Sanguinius and kissed his temple. “Thank you.”

Sanguinius huffed out a breathy laugh, resting his head against Dorn’s shoulder. “You make it sound like I didn’t enjoy it.”

“We should do this again. Once it’s over.”

Sanguinius looked up and smiled wanly, red eyes meeting Dorn’s blue. “Yes, yes we should.” He took a step back. “Come on, we should rest now.”

Dorn nodded and staggered over to a sleeping mat. He’d only just laid down when he fell deeply and contentedly asleep.


End file.
